What with Perry's cast management, David's brilliant structure, Terrie's cheeky giggling and Jim's physically-challenging existence, along with Antonia's gleam of optimism, it has been a good week. John's 'The lounge singer', with the extra bonus of craft beer and for putting the melancholy of 'Turn the page' in my head, propelled itself to the front, but thank you all.
Words for the coming week: cuddle theatre Waterloo
Entries by midnight Thursday 19th
August, new words
posted Friday 20th
Usual rules:
100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all three
words above in the genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or noir.
Serialised fiction is, as always, welcome. All variants and uses of the words
and stems are fine. Feel free to post links to your stories on Twitter or
Facebook or whichever.
Congrats, John - and apologies for no getting back to comment. I got as far as my postings, then evening work halted due to the usual monster, Migraine.
ReplyDeleteI promise to do better this week!
Congrats, John! You certainly earned the top prize last week.
ReplyDeleteGreat job, John. Had a feeling that one was going to be a winner.
DeleteOther than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?-
ReplyDeleteThe announcement said Waterloo was the next stop. My girlfriend cuddled next to me, snoring slightly. I hated to wake her.
I stroked her ear. “We’re here.”
“Oh, good,” she said. “Do you have the theater tickets?”
“I thought you had them.” I raised my eyebrows and patted my breast pocket.
“I can’t believe you scored Hamilton tickets,” she said.
“Well, you did say you’d kill for tickets.”
“Did I?” she said, laughing nervously.
I handed her a revolver. “My wife will be seated in 22B.”
“How do you know?” she said, trembling.
“I bought us tickets as well.”
This guy is quite a devil, John... another great character birthed by your splendid imagination.
DeleteYes indeed. What Jim says.
Deleteoh this one's good! What a twist!!
DeleteCouldn’t Escape If I Wanted To
ReplyDeleteThere’s a theatre called Cinés Wellington in the Belgian municipality of Waterloo. It was here she learned the cuddle.
Boys full of juvenile lust would bring her there, hoping for an intimate tryst in afternoon flicker of the matinee. When they put their arm around her she’d nuzzle close, drawing the moisture of their souls till they dried like leaves. The dust of their husks swept into her shoulder bag as, to the rolling of the credits, she scrolled her own rejuvenation.
And me, like a moth to the flame, watching and waiting my turn.
ABBA reference.!!!!
DeleteGreat song....great story. :)
This is seriously good stuff, David. Your middle paragraph is rife with great writing! 'the moisture of their souls' = beautiful!
DeleteNot enough of a fan to note the ABBA ref but totally so of the words in this, especially the second paragraph.
DeleteWhat power she must have over the boys that even an eye witness waits his turn. Marvelous.
Deleteshe had magnetic abilities it would seem... dark and moody piece, David, like it.
DeleteSomething to ponder [Threshold 361]
ReplyDeleteRaven stepped quietly across the room. Put an arm around me in neither cuddle nor headlock but some act of silent warning. In a voice of endearment, he murmured, 'At the risk of sounding over-theatrical, and contrary to what you might've interpreted from earlier observations, I fear the longer we stay the closer I, at least, approach my Waterloo. Our host is currently uncertain. Of thee and me. Whether his hitherto enemies will support him in his endeavour to overthrow me, or, having done so, would they then vanquish him.
'He wonders where your loyalty lies. As, indeed, do I.'
Well, Raven is certainly talkative today, and quite well spoken at that. I guess the onus has been placed on her for the time being. Quite entertaining, Sandra.
Deletea nice change, and a chance to get inside Raven's head - a tiny bit... mot much is being given away - or will be!
DeleteChange of focus [438]
ReplyDeletePhilly Stepcart, recognising how much the responsibility for solving yet another senseless murder weighed on Pettinger, put her arms round him. 'I'm teasing, John. I'm not the sort of hack who trades sex for headlines. Sorry. Give us a cuddle –'
A mixture of frustration – professional as well as emotional – and a from-nowhere sense of mortality, emboldened him. With give-away bitterness, 'I need more than that.'
Then he wished the bitterness, if not the words, unsaid. Attempted rueful apology, 'I'm sorry. A Waterloo Sunset moment. 'I'm being theatrical.'
'You are.' Tip-toed, she reached and lightly kissed him. 'Wait until tonight.'
Wait until tonight... who doesn't like hearing that? Some satisfying tender moments between these two, well done.
DeleteThe hours until night arrives might pass slowly for Pettinger. Let's hope the wait is worth it. Very nice, Sandra!
Deletevery evocative phrases to keep us enthralled...
DeleteAN ANSWER?
ReplyDeleteIn my conscious but translucent state I could see, hear and move, but I couldn’t execute action beyond myself. I felt like a superfluous prop in a cancelled theater production.
Helpless, I watched my wife kiss her lover. They then reached for each other over my dead self and cuddled. They CUDDLED!
This could not stand!
But what could I do?
An answer, perhaps, revealed itself. My wife opened her jaws ahead of yet another cackling giggle and I dove in, wormed my way down her throat and relished the choking, gagging sounds.
Her Waterloo? God, I hope so.
Ye gods and little fishes, Jim, this is truly gagging horror - well done!
DeleteWhat an accomplishment to garner a 'Ye gods and little fishes' from Sandra. I got one once last year. Well deserved, Jim.
Deleteoh wow! I have been editing horror for a week, nothing as gory as this!!! Brilliant!
DeleteJoys of Mediumship 66
ReplyDeleteOn ground level, mediumship is a series of ‘your mother’s here…’ people looking for a spiritual cuddle, a touch of theatre, a feelgood mood to take home. I used to be able to do that kind of platform work but it began to devolve into trance talks and question and answer sessions so I let it go and began chanelling instead. At least I get to stay home, not meet a sometimes hostile audience, my own personal Waterloo. If it doesn’t sound too foolish, I prefer the companionship of one to one. We do laugh, a lot…
A really nice first sentence. Informative as well. I don't blame you for shying away from the platform work and focussing on one-on-one.
DeleteStop The Week, 18 August 2021
ReplyDeleteAt last… goodies are arriving! More browsers/customers, too. People waiting for the ferry to get to Waterloo and points north, or to see evening theatrical entertainment, going over early to eat drink and be ready for whatever has taken them from our shores. I sense a distance still, with them and with us, no cuddles as the island Covid infection title grows by the day. More goodies to come next week. This includes a visit to a clock collector… looking forward to this one. Time we made some real money, 50p toys are all very well, but…
Goodies AND folk to buy them - long may it last, Antonia.
DeleteWhar better gor a resale shop than goodies. I hopee they keep coming.
DeleteThe Mad Italian 214
ReplyDeleteThis is truly the world’s Waterloo, the disastrous downfall of Afghanistan and the invisible ‘handing over the city’ ceremony which, had it taken place, would have been pure theatre. All we are left with is sorrowing people cuddling loved ones who have escaped with them, or sorrowing for those left behind. This is a scenario acted out a thousand times during the history of this world but it makes it no easier to cope with the heartbreaking photographs and film of Afghans trying to escape. They are proud people. Giving them homes here is a bold and generous move.
The photos and video from Afghanistan is certainly heartbreaking.
DeleteWell said, Antonia. This is yet another Biden blunder.
ReplyDeleteThis is Patricia.
ReplyDeleteRan out of time to comment this week, but wanted to say that I read all the stories and the talent and creativity was, as always, incredible.
"Hey, Mable, what say we have us a date down to the movie show? We might even let you give me a cuddle or two" I said with a theatrical leer. Mable gave me a combination side-eye/stink-eye, and reminded me that "I ain't doing NOTHIN’ ‘til I get a ring on this here finger!". She then proudly raised her hand, brandishing a naked left-hand ring finger. Well, what could I say? She was right purdy, and quite a catch. And so, I said the words she wanted, and invited myself to my very own Waterloo. "Mable, would you..."
ReplyDeleteLife sucks.
Very entertaining, Dave. I like the dialect. The Waterloo line was great.
DeleteThank you John.
Deleteoh Dave, this is sharp and precise and very visual. More please!
ReplyDeleteThank you. Been a minute on here.
ReplyDelete